


One More Day

by Discussed_Literature



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post 13x16, So major spoilers up until that episode, for both our boys, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discussed_Literature/pseuds/Discussed_Literature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bubble shield worked, and everyone in the Pelican made it out. But the loss of General Doyle means the end is closer than ever, and Tucker and Wash find themselves needing a few moments to collect  both themselves and each other before they can keep going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Day

**Author's Note:**

> A little scene between Tucker and Wash that wouldn't leave my mind. And with the end of the season almost here I figured it was as good a time as any to write it up and post it.
> 
> Just to clarify, this takes place immediately after Armonia's destruction, and is an interlude before Church reboots after saving the Pelican.

The Pelican landed brutally, scoring across the canyon walls and coming to a grinding halt near the edge of the encampment. But since it wasn’t a burned out fireball, Tucker considered it a pretty fair landing all in all.

As soon as it came to a standstill both he, Caboose and Doctor Grey raced to it. He saw some of the mixed troops getting ready to run over, but he called for them to stay back. He was almost shocked that they obeyed before remembering his recent rank over them. It was still taking time to get used to people actually listening to him for once.

The doors opened just before they reached it, and the sight of multicolored red armor brought a relief to Tucker he’d deny ever feeling out loud.

They stayed to the side as Carolina was led out, leaning on Kimball and Wash. Before Tucker could get a word out, Doctor Grey was by her side, scanning her with her medical instrument.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just a little winded; holding onto the bubble shield takes a lot of energy.”

“What about Church?” Asked Caboose in a small voice, and Tucker automatically put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Carolina let out a soft groan, “He’s not responding- if the shield was hard for me it must have been hell for him.” Caboose let out a soft noise of distress.

“He’s alright Caboose, I think he just needs a little time to reboot,” she was quick to clarify. “You can come with me while we wait for him to wake up, if you want?” And Caboose was by her side immediately. Wash let her go and Caboose hovered around her, wringing his hands nervously.

“And you can come with me,” Doctor Grey said breezily, looking down at the readings on her device. “While this is good for quick information in the field, I’d much rather get more detailed scans. I have some set up just near one of those bases across from us.”

Carolina started to protest, but Kimball spoke up, “It’s better to be safe than sorry Carolina. You should let the doctor take a closer look just in case.”

Tucker noticed that Kimball sounded so…small, almost. As if she had lost a great deal more than a city that she didn’t believe in in the first place. 

Carolina, still using her for support, let out a soft sigh and nodded.

“Excellent! If you’ll please follow me, this shouldn’t take more than a few minutes,” And so saying, led the three off, Carolina’s arm around Kimball’s shoulder seeming more for comfort than support.

Seeing Carolina setting off safely, the Reds had begun piling out. A series of groans and an exclamation in Spanish followed soon after.

“Oh my god, seriously? We decided to hideout here?” Grif complained, taking in the abandoned shipwreck with dismay.

Tucker snorted at that and crossed his arms. “Welcome home, assholes.”

“Suck my dick Blue” Grif responded, and as he walked past with Simmons by his side he gave a good natured shove with his shoulder against Tucker’s. 

“That’s just Grif’s way of saying he’s glad to see you alive Blue,” Sarge said as he walked past with a slap on the shoulder that made Tucker stumble forward from the force. As he rubbed the faintly aching limb he distantly heard a muttered “for now at least” from Sarge as he followed after his team.

That left just Wash and Tucker. Tucker smiled sheepishly, feeling uncomfortably exposed without his helmet while Wash wore his. 

He had taken it off after they had landed, needing to calm himself down suddenly. He had been overtaken by a sudden surge of claustrophobia after the pelican left them, brought on by the stress of knowing his friends were left behind in a city about to become a nuclear hotspot, that Wash was still in that very same city. The knowledge that their window of escape was narrowing down with every breath he took consumed him, and he had to throw his helmet off before he began hyperventilating. The unfiltered air helped, and he hadn’t even realised Caboose had one hand rubbing comforting circles on his back for an embarrassingly long time. Still, he didn’t tell him to stop, and eventually he had calmed himself down enough with its aid that he thanked him. Caboose just nodded and with his usual naïve optimism, explained that everyone was going to be fine. 

Tucker didn’t begrudge him that; he figured the world needed a little hope right now.

Wash hadn’t said anything, just continued staring as the silence elapsed into an uncomfortable one. Tucker shifted, figuring something clearly wasn’t right, and not just with Wash. He’d forgotten something, or more that he had missed something, or someone…

Tucker understood in a rush, and he felt his heart plummet.

“Where’s Doyle?”

Wash just stood there, silent, hands gripped into fists that thrummed from the fading adrenaline. Anyone would think he was enraged, looking ready to strike at the first person to cross his path. But Tucker had learned over the past months that Wash’s anger was a loud thing; you knew his rage since he’d be screaming it at you. The man in front of him wasn’t angry. He was scared. And he was only ever scared when he didn’t know what to do.

“Oh,” was all he could muster. Wash continued his silence, shakes minutely increasing, and Tucker could imagine the despair beginning to fall across his features. 

Tucker didn’t think, just struck out and grabbed him, bringing him into a desperate embrace. He could hear Wash’s sharp intakes from his helmet, could dully see his eyes scrunched up under his visor.

“We’re not finished. Not yet, not now.” He stated resolutely, digging his hands into the armour, knowing he needed to bring Wash back, to stabilise him. Even if he could feel his own fear steadily creeping upon him. 

Wash returned the embrace so suddenly that Tucker gasped with the force of it.

“Wash, babe, it’s gonna be okay.” Empty promises, and Wash knew it.

He didn’t say a word, just clung to Tucker like his life depended on it. And in some respects, maybe it did.

“We just need to be strong a little longer,” he tried again. “One more day Wash, that’s all I want from you. Then it’ll be over one way or another. But right now, I need you to keep going. I just… I need you.”

Wash let out a shaky breath and backed up from the embrace slightly. He looked down at Tucker through his visor, his hands coming up to cup his face. And damn it, if Tucker didn’t feel his heart quicken at having the man’s complete attention, even with his helmet on. God, Tucker was in so deep. He’d be annoyed at himself if they weren’t a few hours away from being vaporised into dust. 

“I’m just… at least it wasn’t you. Even if that’s a selfish thing to be glad about.”

For a moment Tucker was lost in the conversation. What was Wash... Oh. Doyle. Wash had pictured him taking Doyle’s place, keeping the pirates in the city while he set off the reactor.

And Tucker hadn’t even considered swapping places with the General until this second. And now it was all he could focus on. Because it could have been him. He could have done the exact same thing with the exact same results. The only difference being, his key would have gone down him, and they wouldn’t be only moments away from the Purge’s activation.

Tucker saw himself reflected slightly in the amber glow of Wash’s visor. At the shuttered, despairing look on his face, at the likely mirrored expression on Wash’s own freckled and scarred features and oh God. He could have saved him. He could have saved them all.

“I… I should have done it.” He stuttered, and Wash’s frame tensed, the thumbs that had been slowly caressing next to Tuckers eyes stopping dead.

“If… if I just listened to him when he explained this wouldn’t work. Wash… Wash, it _should _have been me-!__

Wash whipped off his helmet in a sudden motion that Tucker almost missed it, before he felt the desperate crash of lips on his own with an almost savageness that was so detached from the usually reserved marine.

He was taken aback for one dazed second. When Wash kissed, it had always been with a hesitancy that was something other than being shy. Tucker had asked him about it once, and Wash reluctantly explained that he wasn’t sure if what he had with Tucker was real, if in a moment he’d wake up and be back with the Feds, told that his friends were still held as prisoners of the New Republic. 

And Tucker (rather than giving in to the urge to wrap the man in his arms and just hide him from the world that had made him feel that anything good in his life must have been some trick of his mind) made a joke about how clichéd Wash could get; “I mean, you think you’re dreaming since I’m too good to be true? Oof, you’re going to make me swoon you old romantic. Next thing you’ll be comparing my eyes to jewels and how my smile could light up the night sk- Agh! Okay I’m kidding, dude put down the pillow! Come on, truce, truce!” And they had laughed it off, trading relaxed kisses and coming up with silly poetic comparisons about the other that probably held more truth to each man than they were comfortable admitting.

The hands were back on his face, grasping him so hard it almost hurt. He wrapped his arms around Wash, glad for the protection his armor offered but God, if he didn’t wish to just feel his skin against his own, to feel his beating heart against his chest and the blood thrumming inside him.

Wash broke away almost as suddenly as the kiss had started, and Tucker was taken aback by the feral look in his eyes. He would almost be worried if his hands weren’t still holding Tuckers face, the aggression relaxing to a comforting pressure.

“Don’t you ever-“ He broke off to let out a sudden strained breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment to collect himself. When he spoke again, his voice was considerably less shaken, eyes boring straight into Tuckers.

“Don’t ever say that again. I couldn’t do this without you, Tucker. I wouldn’t be able to keep fighting here if it meant you had to give yourself up for it. I wouldn’t… wouldn’t have the strength.”

His eyes suddenly drooped and he just looked _sad _. He stayed silent, holding onto Tucker and watching him, and it would have felt uncomfortable if he wasn’t doing the exact same. Just holding this man, just existing within each other for a few precious seconds.__

__In the back of his mind Tucker realised that anyone could have been watching them, could still be watching them. But he was so anchored to the soldier in front of him that the thought was no more of a flicker before he dismissed it to give the entirety of his attention to Wash._ _

__Wash moved forwards and kissed Tucker’s forehead, before inhaling and resting his chin on top of his head._ _

__“And you’re right, I won’t stop fighting yet. I can keep it together. I can hold on for another day, but only if you’re holding on too.”_ _

__Wash wrapped his arms once more around Tucker, and he echoed the embrace._ _

__“Promise me that you’ll hold on too?” he whispered, and Tucker nodded around the lump in his throat._ _

__They held each other for the length of a few heartbeats, a few shuddering breaths, a few more moments content in each other’s being._ _

__Tucker was the first to move, backing away from the other, with Wash holding on until his arms slid away with the distance._ _

__He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and with huff of laughter let the cockiest grin he could muster (the one he knew Wash secretly loved, though he’d never admit it) plaster across his face._ _

__“Who are we kidding; there’s no way we’d just give up. I mean, you’ve met us, right? I think we’re probably the most stubborn assholes in the galaxy. We’ll give it our all, show those motherfuckers that we’re not taken down so easily.”_ _

__Wash raised an eyebrow, and a weak but real smile lined his face._ _

__“And I’ll assume infuriate them in a way that only the Reds and Blues manage in every battle?”_ _

__“Oh hell yeah, we’ve practically patented our tactics! Take ‘em down through pure luck and an idiocy that defies any rational explanation.” He rested one hand on his hip while the other arm extended in front of him as if taking a bow. Wash huffed a laugh before grabbing Tuckers hand and pulling him along as he started to walk away from the Pelican. He paused to pick up his helmet, and Tucker reminded himself to get his later from where he had taken it off near the entrance to their wreck._ _

__“Save your showmanship for the fight.”_ _

__“Well, if there even is one.” He responded, taking in the situation before them now that he and Wash were both sufficiently calmed down. “What with Church offline for a while, and with the way the other two armies are towards each other who knows if we’ll even attempt a stand. Doyle’s death won’t make it any easier for them to get along.” Tucker mumbled. Wash’s hand tightened in his. They had almost reached their team, and Tucker didn’t miss the looks they received at their joined hands._ _

__“We’ll work something out about that with the others. Right now, all we can do is to keep going, to keep strong. Together.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Tuckers head, and Tucker heard a few groans and cheers, as well as some arguments along the lines of who called it and who owed who money. Carolina, knelt down by Caboose over Church’s storage unit, glanced over and Tucker could hear the smile in her voice as she gave them soft congratulations._ _

__“Yeah,” he smiled, entwining his fingers with those clasped in his hand. “Together.”_ _


End file.
